This morning we spend time on the patio, admiring the flora and watching the hummingbirds feed. At some point, Dell breaks out two hummingbird feeder rings for us to try. The idea is to fill the small red flower thimbles with sugar water and then sit very quietly with your arm outstretched. The manufacturer claims that the hummingbirds will come right up and feed off the ring on your finger. We believe they will work, as the tiny little fluttering jewels have been buzzing all about us the entire time we have been here. Deb, Dell and Karen try their luck as I sit quietly in the corner, camera ready. Unfortunately, no takers this session, although they are still flying near and drinking at the feeders directly overhead. Maybe some time in the future, but today is not the day.
We lunch on sandwiches, hard boiled eggs and fresh strawberries, then hop in the red Taurus for the hourlong drive to Phoenix Sky Harbor airport. We bid adieu to our dear friends, planning to see them again in April when they travel north to visit their daughters and family in Kearney, Nebraska. We breeze through TSA security and encounter no lines, although the buzzer sounds after I pass through the metal detector. They pull me aside and ask for my cellphone after it passes through the x-ray machine. They take it over to some other machine for a moment and then hand it back to me and send us on our way. I later learn that it was a random check and they pushed my phone under a sniffer for explosive detection. Not sure why this happened, but I was assured it was totally random and not to worry. I, of course, was sure that it was probably something I had written regarding you-know-who and I was being persecuted. Deb assured me I was being paranoid, and calmed my jitters by dragging me into the bar nearest our gate and calming me with a healthy pour of Pinot Noir. Sensible girl, that one.
Our flight was on time and 90 minutes later we were on the tarmac at Glenwood-Burbank-Pasadena Airport. This small, two terminal airport is a throwback to another era. I can’t remember when I have alighted from a flight in a normal sized jet to walk down a set of steps to the tarmac and walked in ground level to the gate. We stepped outside and crossed to the baggage claim, also outside but covered and collected our bags. Our original plan as to order an Uber for the drive to Ed’s apartment in North Hollywood, but he called to say his conference was over and he would collect us. We basked in the Southern California sunshine for 15 minutes or so and then here comes Ed, zooming up in his Honda to collect us for the 15 minute drive to his apartment.
Meg had left us a bottle of wine, some cheeses, crackers and salami along with a lovely note. Ed changed and we spent the next few hours catching up, polishing off the wine and cheese and just gabbing. At 7:00 we walked around the North Hollywood Arts & Entertainment district and ended up at our destination of St. Anne’s restaurant, where Meg met us. A lovely restaurant serving “American classics with a Latin touch” and craft cocktails, with a lively action going on. Noisy for a boomer like me to hear with all the ambient noice, but eventually it cleared a little as the bar and snack crowd dispersed. We enjoyed a cocktail or wine and dined on some excellent food: a scratch made mac and cheese, some caci et peppe pasta, and an entree of mac and cheese wrapped in a flat waffle cake like roll topped with deep fried chicken, and, for me, a special blend hamburger, which, topped only with aioli and a slice of tomato on a pretzel style bun, was amazingly delicious - umami filled and succulent.
